


Sweet Like Cotton Candy

by richietortellini



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Bisexual Richie Tozier, Coming Out, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Friends to Lovers, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other, Reddie, Side Benverly - Freeform, Side Kasbrough, side stanlon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-06-24 11:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15629349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richietortellini/pseuds/richietortellini
Summary: At the yearly Derry Fair, Eddie contemplates coming out to his best friend, and long time crush, Richie.





	1. Cotton Candy Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first FanFiction piece I have ever written outside of the Personification Fandom that didn't include one of my own characters. It's been a long time since I've written, as well, in a literature style opposed to a RolePlaying one, so any feedback given will be greatly appreciated! I hope you enjoy this instalment and those to come!

Every year around the end of spring, a small fair would pass through Derry. It would only be open for a weekend, and the rides were old and the games mostly out of date, though the Losers Club never opted out of a chance to have some fun.

The sun was high that May afternoon that the six boys and one redheaded girl rolled through to the field that briefly housed the fairgrounds. Many things had been in that plot over the years; circus’, new years celebrations, though it was mostly used by drunk teens as a place to play out their hooligan actions.

But, it never looked better than this. Vibrant colours and nothing but the sound of happy families filled the warm May air, all as if the horrors of Derry, Maine had never really existed.

“Where should we start?” An oddly eager Bill chimed from the side, turning bright eyes across to his friends who were all seemingly looking in different directions.

“Bumper cars!”

“Shooting!”

“Haunted house!”

A slew of different options was presented to them, though the group eventually settled on the first thing shouted; bumper cars. Thus, the seven teens made their way through the crowd to somewhere in the centre of the fair. It was a lot more crowded there. Lining up for the cars among the mass of other kids and Derry residents, it wasn’t long before a certain bespectacled boy grew impatient.

“How much longer is this going to take? I could get Eddie’s mom on her knees faster than this crowd’s moving!”

Of course, that gained a strained look from the shorter boy behind him, though Richard only smiled. “C’mon, Eds. You gotta agree. This is complete bullshit. I’ve seen paint dry faster than this.”

Shaking his head, Eddie turned an almost pleading glance across to Ben, though he was only laughing along with Richie’s words. “You know Rich, maybe it’d move FASTER if we weren’t stuck behind that big head of yours.” He paused, “And don’t call me Eds.”

Richie, only chuckling still, shook his head dismissively of the smaller teens words. “Righto Spaghetti’o.” Richie teased still, gaining yet another look from the smaller teen beside him.

Eventually, after some thirty minutes of waiting, the group was let through the gate in pairs of two; at least, some of the group were. The two stragglers at the back, Richie and Eddie, were halted, gate closed before they could step through.

“What the shit, dude!?” Richie exclaimed, adjusting his glasses as he turned his gaze up to the tattooed employee, who only shrugged. “You’ll go next kid.”

Bill and Richie shared a glance then, though Richie only waved for the group to go ahead, groaning as he turned his attention back to Eddie beside him. “Do you wanna go get some cotton candy or something? It’s not gonna be as fun just us.”

Nodding along to the idea, both boys soon slipped out of the line, walking towards the nearest food stall.

Eddie walked alongside Richie, eyes downturned as he listened to the other mutter about the carny not letting them on. “It’s bull shit!” He exclaimed, “We were obviously a group! I mean, you’re small enough, you could’a shared with Bill and Stan.”

Brow quirked a moment at those words, Eddie was soon breathing a laugh. “Hey! You’re lanky enough! Why don’t YOU share with them?” Of course, those words were met with a look of mock disgust from Richie.

“Share? Me? Never! ‘Sides, s’ghetti, I wouldn’t wanna share with anyone but my main man.”

“Main man? You have one of those?” 

Richie rolled his eyes, “You, loser.”

That sentiment left Eddie feeling oddly warm. Well, not oddly. Richie always made him feel warm in the little things he did. From tender glances to bright, beautiful smiles. Even the jokes, sometimes, prickled at Eddie’s skin in the nicest of ways. Ways he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forget.

It was those feelings that had brought him to the very jarring realisation. Eddie Kaspbrak liked boys. Now, that being said, he didn’t not like girls. He had crushes on girls in his class. He had often wondered what it would be like to date one. But this was different. This was Richie.

Perhaps that’s why his palms were sweating. Perhaps that was why his throat was tightening at the mere thought of the words. No. In no world would Eddie ever admit so easily that he may actually have feelings for the trashmouth, but maybe, just maybe, Richie could be the first to know. Maybe Richie was the safest place for him to come out.

Standing at the food stall, Richie ordered a stick of cotton candy for each of them, handing some coins up to the carny before handing one of the saturated pink clouds of sugar to Eddie. With nothing but a short, nervous thanks, Eddie was soon pulling pieces of candy off the paper stick, stepping to the side of the stall where he and Richie stood for some moments.

“Hey Rich? Do—do you wanna go for a walk? I wanna talk to you about—well, something.” Smooth. At least, Eddie thought so. Richie on the other hand, turned worried eyes his friend’s way, chewing absently on the candy in his mouth before shortly nodding along to the others words. “Sure, Eds. I guess.”

Silently, the two boys started walking through the crowd. Eddie didn’t know how to start. Or where. Should he start at the beginning? Did the beginning of it all even INVOLVE Richie? Of course, it did. It was all him. From that first glance and short laughter, right up until this moment. Eddie coughed.

“I don’t—I don’t really know how to say this.” Though the people around them didn’t make it any easier. “Rich, you like girls, right?”

That question alone had caught Richie off guard, and the boy just about stopped in his tracks; eyes blown wide behind thick lenses. “Well,  _duh_.” He started, nervous laugh ringing through an equally nervous smile. “What kind of question even is that, Eds? ‘Course I like girls.”  

Swallowing back thickly, pushing his fear down too, Eddie turned his eyes back to Richie. His gaze was bright and worrisome, though there wasn’t much new there. “Well. What—what would you say if—if I didn’t?” A pause, “If I didn’t like them? Like that?” Eddie had to take a moment, glancing around them to be sure he hadn’t been heard.

Richie, on the other hand, had his eyes glued to the blushing boy before him, holding his cotton candy loosely at his side. He had lost any semblance of an appetite. “If you didn’t?” Richie repeated, his own face taking on a pinkened hue as he stared forward at the smaller teen, though, he soon fell in line with Eddie once more; heading through the crowd.

Eyes soon plastered to the grass once more, Eddie waited patiently for a verdict, idly picking at small pieces of his candy, though not really enjoying it as much as he had before this conversation had started.

“Well, if you didn’t… I wouldn’t care.” The words left Richie’s mouth easily, because they were true. As true as the sun in the sky. As true as the drying grass. As true as Eddie’s smile. As true as the way he brushed through his hair in frustration. As true as the way he curled his lip when he was concentrating. As true as the dry laughter he gave when Richie’s jokes weren’t all that great. As true as the way Richie loved him for it. He loved his Eddie, though it was something he’d never be able to admit. Not even to himself.

With a short sigh of relief at Richie’s words, Eddie nodded, only then being able to bring his eyes up to the other. “Okay. Great! I’m—I’m glad. Really. Relieved, more like it.” He breathed a laugh, “I was worried you’d hate me or something.”

“Hate you? Eddie, I’d never hate you. None of us would. And being—” he choked, “liking boys doesn’t change that! You’re one of us, you know.”

“I know.” Eddie stated quickly. “I know that, of course I do.” In the back of his mind, he did, though the anxiety had dug and buried and embedded itself in his mind; leaving Eddie uneasy. “I just—I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

He knew what he wanted to say. He knew he wanted to tell Richie WHY it was so important to him. Why he didn’t want Richie, of all people, to hate him for being gay. But the words wouldn’t form in his mouth. It was too soon. Not yet. Though, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling clawing at his neck that maybe, he wouldn’t even get his chance.

“It’s not stupid, Eddie. It’s not.” Richie set a reassuring hand to his friend’s shoulder, sending oddly kind and soft smile his way. Richie was never good at conveying genuine emotions. He always avoided it through bland and poorly timed humour. But for once, he put all jokes aside, knowing his friend, his best friend, needed consolation. “We all love you, dude. No matter what.” It was all he could think to say.

“You have to promise you won’t tell anyone.” Eddie stated quickly, hand coming to Richie’s wrist, thin fingers curling around the others arm before gently brushing the others hand away from his shoulder. “No jokes either, Richie. I’m serious.”

“I know you are. I promise. No jokes. No outing.” He gestured to zipping his lips, smiling only growing wider thereafter. 

With a quick, definitive nod, Eddie turned his eyes to his cotton candy, tugging at a few pink wisps.

“Should we go back?” He finally asked, eyes turned down the way they had come. Richie’s glance followed after Eddie’s a moment, though he was soon shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t want to just yet. Might be awkward.”

“Awkward?” Eddie asked, “Why?”

“What do you mean why? Dude, you just came out to me. I need at least fifteen minutes to process this information. Eds. ‘Else it’s gonna be joke city over there.” Richie breathed brittle laugh, though there was no fault to his words. Eddie knew that all too well. “Alright.” He thought a moment, “Let’s keep walking then.” 

Quietly, the pair moved onward, walking idly through the sea of fair-goers. Eddie kept his eyes on his candy treat while, every so often, Richie brought his eyes to the boy beside him. His chest swelled in a kaleidoscope of butterflies. A full-blown swarm leaving him feeling tickled and breathless. 

Over the years the pair had been friends, Richie had never felt truly close to Eddie until that afternoon. Of all the people Eddie could have told, he told him. He came out first to the annoying trashmouth rather than stoic-Stanley or good-listener-Bill. He couldn’t help the pride that flooded over him, leaving him walking a little taller and smiling a little wider. 

Eddie didn’t notice that though, too caught up in his own thoughts. Wondering why Richie was walking so close. Wondering if he could feel the electricity between their hands, daring Eddie to reach out and intertwine calloused fingers. Daring him to whisper words that had been on his mind longer than he’d care to remember. Daring him to lean up and kiss those lips that had run so many jokes into the ground.

He didn’t. 

And in that moment, he wasn’t sure he ever would. Instead, he curled his fingers into a tight fist, breathing out the pent-up feelings in a heavy, long sigh. Maybe he was in love with his best friend. And maybe, he’d never get the chance to tell him. 

But maybe, Eddie thought, he could be okay with that. 


	2. The Kissing Cabin, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie, Stan and Bill wander along the stream to the Kissing Cabin. Their usual conversation takes an odd turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, because of how dialogue heavy it may become (like all my pieces aren't), is being spilt into 2 (or more) parts. I'm hoping to get the next part posted by Friday the 17th. Stay tuned!

There was a place not far from the Kissing Bridge. Not along the road, but down along the river. Some minutes’ walk downstream was an old shack-type, grounded tree-house. It had been there, people said, as long as Derry itself. Many kids and teens would visit the sight, though only the older kids dared to enter; rumours of ghosts and murderous hobos clutching the minds of the children too young to know better, and simply those with weaker hearts.

In reality, it was a place most middle schoolers and high schoolers would go to drink, smoke, do drugs and, in some instances, fuck. If anything, the rumours were started by the older kids to keep the youngers at bay.

It was the start of summer vacation, and Richie, Stanley and Bill had been wandering down the stream, the leader of their little band pointing to where he and Eddie had once built a small dam, only to have it broken by some teens that had come along.

“We KNOW about your little dam, Billy.” Richie said with a hard roll of his eyes, “You only tell ‘s about it every time we come down here. It’s just about the gayest thing you’ve ever done, you know?” The bespectacled teen smiled then, “Did you guys touch tips too?”

“Wh-what the h-heh-hell, Richie? We were l-luh-like ten.”

“What’s that matter? I heard Cindy Rodgers gave Dave Clemence a handy under the Kissing Bridge in sixth grade!”

“Jesus, Richie. Do you believe everything you hear?” Stan asked with a shake of his head, though it was soon followed by a short breath of laughter.

“Uhh, only the cool stuff. You wouldn’t know about cool if it bit you on the ass though, Stan.”

“Oh, yeah. ‘Cause you’re the epitome of cool, trashmouth.”

“Damn fucking right, I am! Got your mom to spell it out for me on my—"

“Sh-suh-shut up, Richie! You t-tuh-too, Stan!”

The two boys only laughed, Richie nudging Stan’s elbow with his own as they continued down the way; kicking a few stones into the stream.

“So, Rich, where’s Eddie today?” Stanley asked, breaking the few moments of silence that had settled in the summer air.

“Eds? Uhh, he had to go to a doctor’s appointment with Mrs. K, and then I think they were runnin’ some errands.” Richie had since picked up a stick, using it to prod at some of the rocks in the water. Stan and Bill shared a knowing glance.

“You two have been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?” Stan continued, eyes briefly looking to the stick Richie had in his hand. What was he going to achieve?

“I wouldn’t say a lot.” Richie rolled his shoulders, “I only know about all that ‘cause he called me last night.”

“He c-cuh-called you?”

“Yeah. He calls me all the time.”

Stan and Bill shared another look, this time, Richie caught it; anxiety swelling in his chest.

“What—? What was that look for?” Richie blinked, “Are you guys doin’ some weird, virgin mind reading thing? Is that why I—”

“Shut up, Richie.”

Richie frowned.

“We just th-thuh-think it’s o-oh-odd.”

“Odd?” Richie echoed the word, letting it twist and turn before settling in his mind; letting himself process its meaning. “How is it odd? We’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Yeah?” Richie straightened up, “We all, aren’t we?”

There was another shared glance and the small group of three was soon walking again.

“Rich, is there something—going on? With Eddie?”

“Something?” The boy readjusted his glasses, turning magnified eyes Stan’s way. Of course, the question itself cause a slew of anxiety to build in his chest; mind running a mile a minute (not that it was anything new).

“Y-ye-yeah. He’s been acting w-weh-weird.” Bill said, “D-duh-different.”

“Eddie? Actin’ different?” Richie scoffed, “Nah. Nah, dude. Eddie’s the same. He’s always the same.” He laughed, “I think he’s allergic to change.”

“Or allergic to the truth.” Stanley commented with a short shrug, only to be elbowed by Bill to his left.

“The truth? What truth?” Richie blinked, “You two are talking all cryptid and shit today, what the fuck.”

“Well, you two have just gotten—a lot closer recently.” Stanley started, trying to keep his voice as light and easily as possible (which was a challenge for him to say the least). “We’re just curious if you know, anything’s going on.”

“Anything’s going on? Stan dude, what the fuck do you mean by that?” His words came out fast and more defensive than he had intended, dark brows furrowing as he toyed with a frayed thread on his old Hawaiian shirt.

“You know exactly what I mean, Richie.” Stan smirked, “You guys are always together these days… You’ve got people talking.”

“Talking? What the hell! I don’t even—we’re not like that! I mean, he might be, but I’m not!”

“M-muh-might be what?”

“You know!  _Gay_!”

Richie regretted the words the moment he had spoken them, immediately slapping his hands over his mouth, eyes blown wide in shock.

“I didn’t say that! You—you didn’t hear it from me! God, don’t tell Eddie, please!”

“Richie we a-auh-already n-nuh-know.”

Richie let his hands slowly fall from his face, dropping to his sides as he stood in place, staring at his two friends in disbelief. “What? How? Did—did he tell you?”

“He didn’t have to,” Stan started, “I mean, he doesn’t really try hard to, you know, hide it.”

Lips pursed tightly, Richie turned his gaze to the dirt. He could feel the guilt manifesting, leaving his throat feeling gaunt and dry.

“Still… He trusted me, guys. That was a secret he trusted me with and—”

“Calm down, R-Ruh-Richie. We won’t tell.” Bill assured.

“Yeah. We’ll tell him we figured it out on our own. Like I said, it’s not like he’s tried to hide it.”

Richie didn’t buy it, but he supposed there was nothing he could really do. Sometimes, he really hated his big mouth.

“Okay, if you say so.” Richie sighed, “But, you guys know it doesn’t change who Eddie is, right? He’s- he’s still the same person and shit.”

“Course we know that, hogweed.” Stanley defended, looking to Richie with a face that was bordering on offended. Really, Richie must’ve thought he was Eddie’s only friend in all the world. “And like we said, we won’t tell. He won’t even suspect a thing.”

Again, Richie nodded, though he couldn’t rid himself of the numb sinking feeling in his chest. He felt as if he was being weighed down all the way to China from his guilt.

The three boys continued along the way, soon enough reaching the Kissing Cabin that they had been heading toward. Richie took to sitting cross legged on the floor, fingers idly twirling and toying with a few blades of grass that poked through the floorboards. Stanley and Bill sat across from Richie, their knees brushing slightly as they shared another glance. Neither knew how to start.

“S-suh-so…” Bill breathed, “you’re o-oh-okay with Eddie being—being gay?” His words seemed to tremble and fall from his lips in an oddly ungraceful way. Bill wasn’t the best of talkers to begin with, that was obvious, but something about the way of his words left Richie… Confused.

“Well  _duh_ ,” Richie breathed, “he’s my best friend. Like I said, it doesn’t change him.” Richie couldn’t explain what he was feeling in that moment. He kind of felt like a cornered animal, with Stan and Bill as the hunters. They wanted something from him, he could tell that much, but the teen couldn’t figure out what.

He pushed up his glasses.

“What the hell is this all about?” Now, it was Richie’s turn to have his voice quake. “I don’t—I don’t really appreciate the twenty questions you guys are givin’ me. Haven’t I made the point clear enough or somethin’—?”

Richie continued to ramble. Stand and Bill only stared ahead at him in near disbelief. They could tell they had struck a chord, but what one?

“Richie I’m gay.” Stanley interjected, voice flat and plain, not fault to his words. That was enough to shut Richie up.

“W- what?”

“Well, not  _gay_ , I mean—I like girls. I’m bi. I think.”

Stanley was never the unsure type, Richie knew that much. They had only gotten close in the past few years; having been introduced through Bill. And, well, Richie was an acquired taste at best, not many people would put up with his jokes and endless, inappropriate banter. It took Stanley years to be able to deal. Which, was what left Richie so shocked about all of this. Stan the Man had just come out. To Richie. In the Kissing Cabin.

“O-oh… That- that’s cool!” Richie tried to regain his composure, though it was harder than he had anticipated.

“Cool? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yep! Best I got. Sorry, squid.”

Stanley sighed, sending a pleading look Bill’s way, though he only laughed, shaking his head dismissively.

Silence settled in the cabin once more, only the sound of wind moving through the leaves and the trickling stream outside would invade the teens’ ears in those quiet moments. It was calming, in an odd sort of way, Richie thought. He didn’t have much of a grasp on his thoughts in that moment, about a hundred-thousand questions and stupid jokes to make rushing through his brain, getting clogged at the back of his throat.

Sometimes, it really felt like there was a spider on the back of his tongue with a million little legs of words tickling at him, coaxing the boy to just open his mouth. This time, despite the tickle, he kept it shut… But he couldn’t for long.

He couldn’t when there was one question on his mind. One that just kept replaying over and over. Kind of like those catchy TV advertisements he still remembered from his childhood. He would often sing them in the shower… No. Stanley is bi, he reminded himself. He had to focus.

Richie licked his lips slowly, thinking over his words just the same. He thought about that passing May. He thought about how Eddie had told him. He thought about how nice the cotton candy was that afternoon. About Eddie’s smile. He always liked Eddie’s smile.

Richie breathed in, “ _How did you know?_ ”


	3. The Kissing Cabin, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan tries to explain how he knew he was into boys to a very eager Richie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if I like how this Chapter turned out, I kind of just sped through the second page last night on a whim of motivation while I was writing out the Plot Summary... I've also been without WiFi for a whole week so that's been hell. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

" _How did you know?"_

The words lingered and stained the summer air longer than Richard would have liked. Bulging brown eyes stared out from behind magnifying frames as he watched the Jewish boy opposite him.

"How did I know what?  _That I liked boys?_ " Stanley's voice was one of disbelief. Really, he had expected more from Richie. Well, more like less. He had expected jokes and slurs thrown his way, something he had grown used to being the only Jew in their group of friends. The comments weren't malicious, of course, though that wasn't to say they didn't irk Stanley to death.

Richie nodded.

"Well—I don't—I don't really know." Stan started, almost anxiously rubbing at his knees as his eyes seemed to shift about the creaky floorboards, as if searching for his thoughts between the cracks.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean, I don't know." Stanley assured, looking far too disinterested in how the conversation was turning. He was in the right mind to try to divert the conversation to the Cardinals he could hear, though he knew better. Richie would latch onto Stan's fear. His obvious embarrassment. He would never live it down.

"I mean—I don't know… I guess—I guess I kind of figured it out when Mike started hanging around…"

"Mike—?!" Richie interjected, bright eyes shifting between Stan and Bill, "What the fuck, Stanley?"

"What do you mean 'what the fuck'?" Stan asked, brow furrowed low as he watched the brunet opposite him. "He's a nice person, Richard. Which is more than I can say for  _some_."

"Hey! I'm nice! I'm really fuckin' nice. Tell him, Bill!"

Bill only pursed his lips, looking between the two boys before shrugging. "I don't n-nuh-know, Richie. Stan has a p-puh-point."

"A point? A point!? What the fuck? You know who else has a point, Bill? My dick when—"

"Don't even fucking  _start_ , Richie."

"He started it!"

"Look, do you want me to fucking explain this to you shit-brain, or not?"

That was enough to render Richie silent. He had been about to retort, mouth open at the ready (as always), though his lips soon snapped shut, oak eyes turned the blond boy's way. Well, he wasn't really blond anymore; not like he used to be. Stanley's hair had been getting progressively darker for about a year now. It was more of a mousy brown that it was blond.

Stan breathed a short sigh through narrow nostrils, "Okay, well—it didn't start straight away. I mean, it was  _kind of_  instantaneous, but not really, you know?"

"No."

"I mean, I thought he was—I thought he was good looking straight away, but I didn't  _realise_  that I thought that until later. Until like—I don't know, it was a couple of weeks. We were hanging out by the Quarry—he came bird watching with me, and he told me about all the birds he sees at his farm and I just—I got this feeling and it kind of just—kind of just clicked, I suppose."

Richie had stopped listening half way through. He was still staring Stan's way, of course, but his eyes were seemingly glazed over, like he wasn't present in the cabin with his two friends, having retreated into his mind.

He couldn't help it. The moment he had heard the word Quarry, he had thought back to when he was last there with Eddie.

It had been raining the morning they had gone together, meaning the water was colder than it usually was; especially for it being summer. They had gone swimming, splashing and laughing in the summer sun. Eddie had forgotten to pack his sunscreen, leaving him with pink, burnt shoulders.

Richie had always adored Eddie's shoulders. It was an odd thing to like, and he knew that, but they were so perfect and smooth and freckled. He loved the freckles. He always thought it was just because he and Eddie had that in common, but when he tuned back into Stanley's voice about the feeling, he wasn't so sure.

"It's like—my stomach  _twists_. Heaps. Like my guts are in a cotton candy machine, just spinning and spinning getting sweeter and sweeter."

Oh, Richie knew that feeling all too well. He distinctively remembered the first time he had felt that. He and Eddie had been at a sleep over with Bill and Stan. They had been sharing a blanket and a bowl of popcorn on the floor, and their hands had touched in the bowl. Eddie had been quick to pull his hand away, but Richie could still feel it against his own a whole week later. He was always looking for ways to feel it again.

"That's gay." He said quickly with a scoff, looking Bill's way as if he would back him up. Bill only sighed.

"Yeah. That's kind of the point, Richard."

* * *

The three boys didn't stay in the cabin for much longer after that. They knew better than to hang around until dusk or later. That's when the older kids would come along with their alcohol and cigarettes. Richie couldn't wait to be older, to be like that. His friends thought he was crazy.

Stan and Bill set off up the hill with Richie in tow. He lagged behind, a little further than usual. He couldn't rid his mind of what Stan had said. At least, the parts of what he heard Stanley say; about  _the feeling_. The stomach twisting. The cotton candy. Richie remembered how the candy stained his fingers pink. Eddie had pointed that out. He laughed. He laughed and it made Richie laugh. It made him happy. Why did Eddie make him so damn happy?

He was beginning to think he knew.


	4. Another Scary Movie, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer is drawing to an end and the losers see a movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for how long this took to get out! I originally wrote up a fic plan after the last chapter, but after doing that I couldn't find the motivation. Literally today I decided to throw the plan out the window and managed to write for ages! Like the last chapter, this will be split into two halves, but I hope this is some good content to keep you interested. Again, sorry for the wait!

There wasn't much to do in a small town like Derry during the Summer. If you weren't swimming or at the arcade, you'd probably be at the theatre, the drive-in or the lookout; though it was hard to go too far when you were yet to learn to drive.

Thus, the theatre was the groups only option. They filed into the row one by one, attending some scary movie that Eddie didn't know the name of. He wasn't fond of horror. Well, that wasn't quite true - he wasn't fond of horror when they were at the cinemas. He preferred to watch scary movies in the privacy of his own home, where he could laugh and joke about it as much as he pleased to hide his fears. Of course, he couldn't do that in a dark room full of strangers. Surely, he'd be kicked out for disturbance.

He sat with Richie and Stan on either side of him and Mike on the other side of Stan. That made him feel a little safer at least - a little more secure. Three of the people he trusted most in the whole wide world. He knew he was paranoid at best, but he'd all too often have intrusive thoughts of someone coming into the theatre and shooting up the place or stabbing him in the back of the head. They weren't nice thoughts to have, and they caused him to be constantly looking back over his shoulder to the door or into the empty row behind them.

Richie noticed this every time they saw a movie that Summer and every other time before for the last three years; but it was worse recently. Worse because Eddie was gay.

He felt like everyone knew his secret. Like they could smell it on him like dog shit on his shoe. He felt dirty and small and like that Bowers boy was waiting for him around every twist and corner.

"You 'right, Eds?" Richie whispered, leaning in close to his friend, which caused Eddie to gasp. He was on edge enough; he didn't need this too.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm good," he lied through his smile, shoving another piece of popcorn into his mouth, thought the salt was stinging the cuts in his mouth from chewing at his cheeks so often. It was a horrible habit but it was one he could never seem to rid himself of. He turned his eyes back to the movie.

Richie's eyes, on the other hand, lingered. Even as screams sounded through the speakers all around them, his eyes stayed on Eddie; taking in his freckles in the dark light, the strait of his nose and worried curve of his brow. Richie wasn't sure he'd ever seen something more beautiful. Eddie reminded him of one of those old Greek statues; young and flawless.

Richie thought Eddie was flawless. He knew Eddie was flawless. He knew it from the way Eddie wound band-aids around Richie's fingers. He knew it from the way Eddie laughed at Richie's jokes even when they weren't good. He knew it from his pretty handwriting, even when it was hurried and messy. He knew it from how Eddie's eyelashes fluttered when he was nervous and when he slept; dreaming of things Richie could only wish to know.

It was the only word that there was in the English language to describe such a person. Even something beautiful could have its faults, but Eddie had none, and it drove Richie up the fucking wall.

All the while, Eddie was trying to remind himself to breathe. He could feel Richie's gaze on him, and it made his skin crawl in ways that were... _confusing_. Any other day, he would have loved to know Richie was looking at him, staring at him. But not today. He felt out of his own head and he didn't know quite how to handle it. He was getting up to his feet before he even knew, apologising to his friends as he shuffled out of the aisle and up to the doors. He needed out of that dark, confined space, and as soon as he was out and in the foyer, he managed to pull in an adequate enough breath to leave his lung feeling full.

He couldn't say he was surprised when he saw Richie come through the doors after him, but he wasn't sure he could handle being comforted right now. He moved across to one of the foyer seats, sitting down with a hand to his chest.

"So, obviously you were lying," Richie said, a softness to his tone as he stood in front of Eddie, hands shoved into the pockets of his denim shorts. Who even wore denim shorts?

"I'm fine, Richie. I—I just don't feel well." He said, hoping that would be enough to get Richie leaving well enough alone. It wasn't.

Sighing through his nose, Richie moved to sit beside Eddie, perhaps a little closer than he intended; their knees brushing together. It sent sparks right up through Richie's body, leaving his spine feeling itchy and his lips tugging into a smile. Eddie pulled away.

"C'mon, Eds. You can talk to me." Richie tried to be reassuring, though it wasn't something that fit comfortably in his body. It was like trying to fit into a too-tight sweater; maybe you could get it on, but it would hug you uncomfortably and the sleeves would be too short. You'd look ridiculous - and Richie was sure he was sounding it right now.

Eddie stayed quiet, eyes on the floor. He had a horrible feeling of foreboding that sat in his chest, weighing him down like the sludge at the bottom of the Quarry. If the mud didn't take him, the weight of the water would.

"Eddie?" Richie whispered, cutting through the quiet in a way only he could, "dude, please? I wanna help." He reached out, hand to Eddie's shoulder, slipping along to the middle of his back which felt like pins and needles tickling under Eddie's shirt.

"I don't like scary movies," Eddie finally said, turning brown eyes Richie's way. It was the truth, perhaps not the one Richie wanted to hear, but the truth all the same.

" _So..._ do you wanna stay out here for the rest of it?"

"No,"

"Then what?"

Eddie fell quiet again, breathing out a slow sigh through his nose as he looked to the floor. Richie took note of how his nostrils flared a little bit. He was annoyed.

"Do you want to go outside?" That was only met with more silence and Richie leaned back against the wall in defeat. If Eddie wanted to play that game, then so be it, he thought.

"I don't like scary movies," Eddie said again, slower this time, as if coming to terms with the phrase. "You don't think the others will be mad?" He asked, looking back to Richie.

It was something of a tradition for the group to see whatever horror film was out. Eddie always hated it, but he tagged along anyway in fear of being left out. But... it wasn't the movie he was really talking about.

Richie looked to Eddie; brows knitted together as his eyes shifted slowly around Eddie's face. He hadn't caught on.

"Why would they be?"

"Well, what if—what if I only like... _comedies?_ " He asked, wondering if he made it too obvious. Of course, Richie already knew, but it wasn't something they could talk about so openly; especially with strangers around. And, of course, Richie didn't know the whole story.

"Only like comedies?" Richie asked with a snort, "Eds, you literally made me watch a bunch of those shitty crime shows with you... not to mention those lame, old romances. I mean, seriously, I don't know any other guy that likes that sappy shit as much as—"

"No—Richie, you don't get it." Sighing more liberally this time around, Eddie pushed up onto his feet, anxiously rubbing his fingers into his forehead. He paced back and forth the length on the bench a moment, thinking over how to word it better. He supposed the only way to go about this was head-on.

"I want to tell them." Coming to a firm stop in front of Richie, Eddie’s soft, worried eyes became glued to the magnifying glasses that sat on the bridge of Richie's crooked, freckled nose; his spit-slick lips that were hanging open wordlessly. A first, Eddie thought, for his best friend. His partner in crime. His crush.

No, Eddie didn't want to tell them. He had to.


	5. Another Scary Movie, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie wants to come out, Bill walks him home.

“ _I want to tell them_.”

The words mulled over in Richie’s mind. He was finding it hard to focus, with the loud sounds of the movie playing in the background behind him. His eyes, while still on Eddie, blurred and unblurred as he tried to make sense of what his friend was saying.

“You—you want to tell them you don’t like scary movies?” He asked, completely unaware of what Eddie was saying. Eddie, unsurprising, groaned.

“No—Richie, oh my God, I want to tell them about—about me.” He said, looking around as if he had said something dirty. Disgusting. He supposed, depending on who you asked, it was.

“Oh— _oh!_ ” Richie was on his feet now, nodding his head quickly. Springy curls bounced around his thinning face in a way that left Eddie a little unsteady on his feet. Richie had let his hair grow out over the Summer, and now those curls were nearly down to his chin. He was still beautiful, but his hair was getting flatter. Eddie missed the mess.

“ _Uhh—_ how’re you gonna do it?”

The question pulled Eddie out of his own head, blinking a couple of times as he tried to keep his mind on the conversation at hand.

“I don’t—I don’t know yet.” Eddie, even though he was sure about the decision, was quick to start fiddling and tugging at his fingers in anxiety. What if they weren’t okay with it? What if they hated him? He wasn’t sure he could deal with that, and his mind was already flashing with all the horrible things they could say, their face recoiled in disgust. He could feel himself spiralling out of his own head again, but lucky Richie was there to catch him.

“Eds—? Eddie, hey…” He whispered, hands coming to hold either of the shorter teens’ arms. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” Richie assured, thumbs rubbing over the curve of Eddie’s shoulders. “Breathe, okay? Long and slow. You got your inhaler?”

Eddie nodded, though his hands made no move for his pocket. Instead, his own hands came to Richie’s shoulders, holding him in place, anchoring himself there with the boy in front of him; his head spinning a million miles an hour.

They’d hate him. They would. He knew it. He knew it and Richie knew it too. But Richie accepted him. Richie was still his friend. His best friend. At least Eddie still had him… _right?_

“I can’t—I can’t breathe,” he said through bated breaths, his body not slowing down with the thoughts in his mind. He had calmed himself, hadn't he? Why was he panicking?

Richie helped him around, sitting him back down on the bench before crouching down in front of him. With one hand to Eddie's cheek and the others to his knee, Richie took the lead in breathing, pulling in long, slow breaths - through the nose and out the mouth, through the nose and out the mouth.

Eddie followed along, ignoring how his cheeks felt hot and how his eyes burned with tears. He breathed as Richie did, long and slow, brown eyes shut tight as he tried to focus on the sounds of Richie's breath; opposed to the feeling of strangers’ eyes on them and the sound of whispered words of worry and concern through the hall.

"You're okay, Eds." Richie whispered again, both hands holding the youngers face now, "look at me." Eddie's eyes fluttered open, quickly shifting between Richie's magnified pair.

He had always loved Richie's eyes. You could tell a lot about him from them alone. They were like ancient oak; mighty and unyielding. He was barely sixteen and yet there were fine crinkles collecting at the edges, signs of many laughs shared among friends. There were webs and streams of gold hidden through the brown, a perfect metaphor for who Richie was as a person, Eddie thought. People often didn't look hard enough past what they considered bland to see the stars and wonder beneath the surface.

Eddie's breath had long since evened out as he came out of his own mind, blinking again. Richie's palms were slightly squishing his cheeks, long fingers curled through Eddie's hair. He still felt a little breathless, but it was for all the right reasons now.

"Are you sure you want to tell them?" Richie asked gently, thumb gently brushing along Eddie's cheek.

Eddie let himself relax a little into Richie's touch, head ever so slightly tipping into his left palm as a hand of his own came to hold Richie's in place. "I have to," he breathed, staring at the floor somewhere passed Richie's shoulder, unable to bring his gaze back to the now blushing teen in front of him.

"They're my friends... my family. I want them to know."

The movie had long since finished, and the group were soon pushing through the doors, laughing amongst themselves. Eddie pulled back as if he'd touched fire, causing Richie to sigh gently through his nose. He got to his feet before anyone could ask, but Bill had definitely seen how close they were.

"You missed the end, losers." Stan chimed with a smile, walking practically shoulder to shoulder with Mike to his left who was grinning like a fool.

"Wasn't scary enough," Richie said, shoving his hands into his pockets, "have you seen Sonia's bathroom? Now that's a fucking horror story."

"Shut up, Richie."

It was like nothing happened, Eddie thought. It was normal. He could still feel the burning in his cheeks from where Richie had been holding him, a gentle reminder that the touch, tender and sweet, had been real. Richie had managed to so soft with him, and thinking back on it, it made Eddie’s face warmer than Richie’s palm had been.

* * *

The group left the theatre shortly after, each parting to go their own ways home. Eddie and Bill walked together, mostly in silence for a while, neither knowing what to say or how to start.

“So… y-yuh-you and Richie?” Bill finally managed as they turned down the street. The implication left Eddie blinking dumbly. Him and Richie… _what?_

"What?"

Bill shrugged, "you just l-luh-looked really close earlier, that's all."

"Close?" Eddie asked, face hot again. Bill knew his secret. Bill knew he was gay.

"Were you having an a-auh-asthma attack or something? You could have t-tuh-told us, Eddie. You know we—you know I would h-huh-have helped."

Something about Bill’s words made Eddie feel a little… uneasy. Usually, he would have asked if Eddie was okay, not make him feel guilty for not telling him. He swallowed back, shrugging his shoulders as nonchalantly as he could manage.

“Didn’t wanna be a bother,” he said coolly, obviously forcing it, “besides, you and Bev were getting close. I didn’t want to get in the way of that.”

“Me and Bev? Is that w-wuh-what this is about?”

“What? No—I just meant—” Eddie cut himself off, sighing and running a hand back through his hair. “I’m fine, Bill. Really, I just needed some air. I felt like I was suffocating in there… the movie didn’t help.”

Well, it wasn’t a total lie. There were other reasons, sure, but they weren’t anything Eddie wanted to get into.

While he looked at Eddie for a moment with a curious eye, Bill finally caved and nodded. At least he bought it, Eddie thought, who had taken to pulling at his fingers anxiously.

When they came to Eddie’s house, Bill walked him right up to the door. Usually, it wouldn’t be something any of the group would do, but it was Bingo night at the town hall, so Sonia wasn’t home.

Eddie fiddled with the lock a moment in silence, unsure why exactly Bill had gone the extra mile to come through the gate, up the path and steps and to stand awkwardly on the porch. It filled him with anxiety, and there was a weird air around them that he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

Turning back to Bill once he got the finicky old door open, Eddie forced a smile. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, going to step inside before—

“Eddie, w-wuh-wait, I—” Bill said quickly, tapping his fingers against his side as if it would hold the floodgate on his stuttering, if only for a moment. “I w-wuh-wanted to ask you e-eh-if you wanted t-tuh-to go—to go o-oh-on a d-duh-date with m-me.”

_A date?_

All sound seemed to be sucked out of the world in that instant as Eddie stared on at a red-faced, sputtering Bill Denbrough. He couldn’t make sense of what he had just heard, his own face flushing up to his ears and down his neck. He wasn’t being serious… _was he?_

The seconds dragged on without a response from Eddie, and Bill was growing visibly more wary by the moment. Eddie had to say something, but he couldn’t find the words he wanted to say.

_But Richie._

Richie was straight. He knew that since the second grade when he chased around Abby Froyer trying to kiss her, and again when he did in their seventh.

Eddie had never had his first kiss.

“Okay.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fell together all on its own and all I can say is... wow. I didn't even see that coming at the end. I hope you all enjoy and I'm hoping to keep to regular uploads now!


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